Of Sound Mind
by InfinityStar
Summary: A raging housefire, a daring rescue, a worrisome injury...and something isn't right. The mind can be a fragile thing, or incredibly strong.
1. A Visit to Carmel Ridge

The wheels hummed on the highway as the black SUV headed back toward Manhattan. Behind the wheel, Eames glanced at the passenger seat, where her partner had dozed off. She had been surprised when he'd asked her to accompany him on his weekly visit to Carmel Ridge. He never asked anyone to go with him. His mother, and her illness, was his burden to bear, and his alone. She had no idea why he asked her to go with him, but she was glad to do it. She'd even let him drive.

It had been a very difficult visit. She was agitated and she did not even recognize her son. She was ranting about "them," although Eames had no idea who "they" were. Bobby didn't either, but she had been going on about "them" for most of his life, so he was used to it. Eames sat quietly in a chair near the door, where he had asked her to stay, while he tried to calm his mother down, to convince her she was safe from "them" and to get her to realize that he was indeed her Bobby and not one of "them" impersonating him. To his relief, she had never even noticed Alex. As the visit wore on, she got more and more agitated, and when she showed signs of becoming violent, Goren calmly asked his partner to go out to the desk and let them know. She had returned with two nurses and two orderlies, and she'd watched while he continued to try to verbally calm her. But she slipped over the edge and attacked him. He had no trouble subduing her, gently pulling her into his arms, her back to him, and holding her while they got the restraints and the medication ready. Twenty minutes later, she was sedated and restrained. Eames slipped back into the chair by the door while he sat beside his mother for a short while. Convinced she was ok, he got up and left the room, lightly brushing his hand against Eames' shoulder as he passed her, to let her know they were leaving. She got up and followed him. He talked with the doctor for awhile as she waited near the nurses' station, listening to them talk in quiet tones about how glad they were he had been there this time. She hadn't realized before how much of a common occurrence this was for his mother. Finally, he had come to her with a quiet, "Let's go."

He hadn't said much on the way to the car, but he'd handed her the keys. He looked exhausted, defeated. Seeing him like that was more difficult for her than watching his mother slip further away from him into her own paranoid reality where she saw her devoted son as a stranger who was out to get her. Sliding behind the wheel, she had hesitated before starting the car. "Bobby…" she began.

He held up his hand and shook his head. "Not now. Please."

She nodded. In his own time, when he was ready, he'd talk to her. For now, she left him alone. By the time she'd pulled onto the highway, he had dozed off, more emotionally exhausted than anything else. She left him alone.

They were still a good half hour from the city when he stirred. Sitting up, he lowered the window and looked out into the night. "Eames," he said softly. "Do you smell anything?"

She sniffed the wind. "Smoke, I think."

He scanned the surrounding countryside, finally pointing. "There. Let's go."

She could see the black smoke pouring from a house not far off the highway. He flipped on the light and siren as she pulled onto the shoulder and drove down the embankment to the access road. Pedal to the metal, she headed toward the burning house.

He jumped from the car before she had even come to a full stop. Running after him, she saw a woman coming at them from the house. She fell into his arms, sobbing and pointing. "He's still in there!"

"Who's still in there?" Goren asked.

"My son! He's two! He's in his room, upstairs, toward the back of the house!"

Goren met his partner's eyes. "No, Bobby…"

He gently handed the mother off to her. "What's his name?"

"Tommy."

He met Eames' eyes again, then ran toward the house. She knew better than to argue. He was going to do what he felt he had to do, and he counted on her to back him up. She turned to comforting the mother, glancing up in time to see him enter the burning house and trying without success to force down the worry that gripped her gut.


	2. Rescue

He entered the house through the side door, into a hallway the stretched toward the front of the house in one direction and up a flight of stairs in the other direction. The fire had not yet reached this part of the house. He ran up the stairs to the second floor and through a doorway into another hallway. This hallway was filled with smoke and there were flames licking their way up the walls and across the ceiling. He dropped down and covered his mouth and nose with his handkerchief. Moving forward, no longer certain of his orientation within the house, he moved from room to room, looking for a very frightened child that he prayed was still alive.

Leaning against the SUV outside the burning house, Eames comforted the frantic mother. "My partner will find your son. Try to calm down." She knew the young mother was in shock, and she wrapped a blanket from the back of the car around her shoulders, sitting her in the passenger seat of the vehicle. Eames' eyes continued to stray to the house, looking for any sign of life emerging from the flames.

The sirens grew louder as the fire engines drew closer. _It's about damn time_, she thought. She had radioed the call in as soon as they saw the fire. Three fire trucks and an ambulance roared up to the scene, followed shortly by two patrol cars and the fire chief. She turned care of the mother over to the ambulance crew and approached the firemen as they pulled out their equipment, flashing her badge. "There's a little boy still in there," she informed them. "My partner went in to get him."

The fire chief looked at her. "Your partner did _what_?"

"He did what he had to do. He went in after a little boy."

He turned to his crews. "Ok, we got two people still in there. A little kid and a cop who went in to get him. Let's move it!"

Eames stepped back as the crews scrambled to get into the house, her worry increasing as time passed and there was no sign of her partner.

The last room he went into was the child's room. It was empty. Shit! Where could the little boy have gone? He headed back out into the flaming hallway, checking every door on his way back to the far hall, coughing harder as smoke filled his lungs. When he opened the bathroom door and hollered for the boy, he heard a cry in return. He found the terrified child huddled down in the bathtub, hugging a teddy bear. "Tommy, I'm a police man. I'm going to take you to your mommy. Ok?" He just nodded and whimpered. "Ok, come on."

Goren turned on the faucet in the sink, hoping the pipes hadn't yet burst. He was lucky. He wet down a towel and wrapped the little boy in it. "Now you keep your head right up against me, ok?" He pulled off his jacket and covered the boy with it. Coughing hard, he hesitated before opening the door. Then he stepped back into the hallway. Halfway to the stairs, part of the ceiling collapsed on top of them.

---------------------------------------------------------

Eames paced nervously back and forth in front of one of the fire trucks. She looked at her watch. Almost ten minutes. He should have been back out by now. This wasn't looking good. The more time that passed, the less likely it was her partner was going to make it out of the building, with or without the little boy. If the smoke got to him, that would be it. It had not been a good day to start with, and with each passing minute, it was getting worse.

The side door to the house suddenly slammed open, and Goren stumbled out, with something in his arms. She ran toward him as he dropped to his knees on the grass and three firefighters gathered around him, one of them taking the bundle from his arms. She could hear Goren coughing, but he wasn't saying anything. The firefighter handed the child to her as she came up to them and she started toward the waiting ambulance with him. The little boy coughed and whimpered, looking up at her, tears streaming through the dirt on his face. He started crying. "Mommy…"

There was a loud cry as the young mother saw her coming toward them with her son in her arms. Eames looked up as the woman ran toward her, and she handed Tommy to her with a smile. Tears were streaming down the mother's face. "Thank you!" she managed as she held her son close in her arms.

Eames smiled at her. "Don't thank me. Thank my partner."

She nodded toward where Goren was still kneeling in the grass, hunched over, coughing and trying to catch his breath while one of the firefighters held an oxygen mask to his face. The mother walked over to him, still holding her son, and knelt in the grass in front of him. He looked at her, and Eames saw for the first time, the blood running down his face. "Thank you, officer. Thank you so much."

He smiled one of his warm, reassuring smiles, laid a hand gently on the child's head and accepted the mother's hug. Then she let the paramedic take them back to the rig. Eames went over to him as another paramedic ran up to them with a first aid box. She dropped to her knees beside her partner. His eyes were half-closed and filled with pain, but he smiled at her. She shook her head. "You're gonna be the death of me, Goren," she said.

He coughed and his voice was hoarse. "Sorry, Eames," he said quietly. She watched his eyes slide closed and caught him as he slipped into unconsciousness.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Eames paced the cubicle in the ER as she waited for them to bring Goren back from x-ray. He hadn't yet regained consciousness and that concerned them. The paramedics told her he'd suffered a "significant head injury" as well as "moderate to severe smoke inhalation" and that he would most likely be admitted, at least overnight for observation. He was still unconscious when they brought him back, so she simply sat beside him, holding his hand and watching him.

"Excuse me?"

Eames looked up at the man who came into the cubicle. He wore a white lab coat and a nametag that read _Dr Barrett_. He was young and very serious. He held out his hand. "I'm Dr. Christopher Barrett, staff neurologist. They called me in to review Robert's CT scan. Are you his wife?"

"No. He's not married."

"Does he have family, a significant other?"

"I am his partner. He has no other family, except his mother who is not competent to make any decisions regarding his care. So if you want a significant other, I guess you're looking at her."

He grinned at her. "Well said." He flipped open the chart in his hand. "Ok. Although he has an open scalp lac, there has been no real damage to his skull, so his injury is being classified as a closed head trauma. Now, his CT is ok…I don't see any real damage to his brain. Can you tell me what happened?"

"Unfortunately, no. He went into a burning house after a little boy who was trapped in there. That's all I can tell you."

"Did he get the little boy?"

She smiled. "Yes. He did."

He nodded, a small smile on his face. "They've noted some burns and serious smoke inhalation. Anyway, as I was saying, there is no notable organic damage, although he has most certainly sustained a moderate to severe concussion. Was he conscious at all?"

"Yes, he came out of the house under his own power."

"And he seemed ok?"

"Yes."

He nodded again. "All right then. I'll come by to see him after he regains consciousness. I'm going to order him admitted for observation." He fished around in his pocket and pulled out a card. "Here's my card, if you have any questions."

"Uh, doctor?"

"Yes?"

"Bobby would have understood everything you just told me, but I'm not as…well-versed as he is in medical jargon. Without talking to me like I'm a toddler, can you tell me in layman's terms what you just said?"

He smiled at her, appreciating her spunk and candor. "Of course. I apologize. Robert's CT scan was good. There is no evidence that his brain was damaged beyond what normally occurs with a concussion. My guess is that after he regains consciousness, after a brief recovery, he should be fine."

She smiled. "Thank you, Dr. Barrett."

"Will you be staying here with him…" He looked at the chart. "Ms. Eames?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll talk with you later."

She nodded and he left the cubicle. She resumed her bedside vigil at her unconscious partner's bedside. By the time they were ready to transfer him upstairs, he had still not regained consciousness.


	3. Confusion

The room was quiet, except for the sound of his coarse breathing and his occasional reflexive coughing. A nurse came in every half hour to check on him, but other than that, no one disturbed the quiet. Eames was worried about him. Dr. Barrett had left orders to page him when his patient regained consciousness. So far, Goren gave them no sign of waking.

A soft knock sounded in the room and the door slid open, spilling light from the hallway across the floor. The only light in the room was the one over his bed directed upward toward the ceiling, and it served mostly to just cast the room in shadows. Deakins came into the room. "Hi, Alex," he said softly.

"What are you doing here, Captain? It's late."

"You should have called me. I just got word about what happened."

"I was going to call you in the morning. It's after midnight."

"How is he?"

"They say he's ok."

"I was told he got caught in a housefire. How did that happen?"

"We were on our way back from Carmel Ridge and we came across a housefire. A young woman was freaking out because her little boy was still in the house, so Bobby went in to get him."

"And?"

"And he did. The little boy is fine, and so is his mother."

"Did he tell you what happened in there?"

"No. He didn't say much of anything, and he collapsed not long after coming out of the house."

"Why the bandages on his head?"

"He got hurt while he was in the house. They bandaged a laceration and said he has a concussion, but the CT scan they did was ok."

"And they have him on oxygen?"

"For smoke inhalation. That's why he's breathing like Darth Vader. They said he's lucky. It could have been much worse. His airway is clear and there doesn't seem to be any permanent damage."

"So he's just sleeping?"

"Not quite. He hasn't regained consciousness yet."

Deakins frowned. "What do they make of that?"

"I don't know. They haven't said much, except page the neurologist when he wakes up."

Deakins sighed and looked at his favorite team of detectives. "Are you going to stay here with him?"

She gave him a small smile. "That's what partners do."

The captain nodded. That was what partners did, especially devoted partners like these two were. "I guess there's no sense in my hanging around. Call me in the morning and let me know how he's doing. Try to get some rest."

"I'll try. Thanks, Captain."

Deakins left the room and she leaned back in the chair. _Get some rest…yeah right…_

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Eames dozed in the chair beside his bed. Something woke her, but she wasn't sure just what it was. The room was still dark. She looked around, her eyes coming to rest on her partner, who was lying on his side, arm tucked under his head, watching her. He smiled when she looked at him. She smiled back. "How do you feel?"

"I have a headache." He indicated the room around them. "What am I doing here, and why are you sleeping in that chair?"

"Don't you remember the fire?"

"Fire? No. What happened?"

"Let me go and get the doctor first."

He shrugged and grinned at her. "I'll wait here."

She smiled at his light tone and laid a hand on his cheek. He turned his head to kiss her palm. She wondered at that as she left the room.

Eames returned shortly with a nurse, who turned on the lights and listened to his chest. Deep breaths triggered a deep cough, but his lungs were clearing, she said. "Dr. Barrett will be here shortly," she informed them.

A few minutes later, Barrett came into the room. He smiled at Eames. "It's nice to see you again, Ms. Eames. When you said you were staying I didn't know you planned to remain all night."

She shrugged. "I hadn't planned on it, doctor. But it was kind of pointless for me to go home and worry when I could do that just as easily here. I have to make sure he's ok before I can think about leaving."

Barrett just nodded, but his understanding did not extend to the partner dynamic. It went as far as boy-girl and stopped. He turned to Goren. "Well, Robert, it's nice to see you awake. How do you feel?"

Goren nodded. "I'm ok, I think."

"Any pain or nausea? Anything abnormal?"

He seemed to think about it. "I…" he started. Then paused again. With effort, he finally remembered what the doctor had asked. "Yes."

The doctor frowned. "Yes? Can you be more specific?"

"About what?"

Barrett looked at Eames. "Is he playing with me?"

She was frowning. "I don't think so. Bobby, tell the doctor what hurts or isn't right about how you feel."

"Well, my head hurts, and I feel sick to my stomach. I'm really tired. Other than that, I think I'm ok."

"You took a serious blow to the head this evening." He advanced to the big cop's bedside. "Sit up for me, please."

Goren sat up, but closed his eyes quickly. "Dizzy?" the doctor asked. He nodded. "That's not unusual. I'll wait until you're ready to proceed."

After several attempts, Goren finally opened his eyes and nodded at the doctor. "Ok, now?"

"Well, not ok, but I can open my eyes without puking." The doctor gave him a small smile. He took out a penlight and shined it in his eyes. Then he proceeded with a series of simple tests designed to evaluate neurological functioning. Satisfied, he stepped back from the bed, and Goren fell back against the pillows, closing his eyes again until the wave of dizziness and nausea passed. Barrett waited until he opened his eyes and looked at him again. "There's nothing I can really do right now. I'll think about more tests tomorrow, if you seem any worse. I'll be by in the morning to see how you're doing. They told me that your lungs are clearing, and the more you cough, the quicker they'll clear. I want to know if your headache worsens, your vision changes, or you notice anything unusual." He looked at Eames. "If anything concerns you have me paged."

Eames still looked concerned. She walked with the doctor to the door. "His confusion…?"

"It's pretty normal after a head injury. He may be restless or irritable, tired or have trouble concentrating or remembering things. I want to know about anything you notice out of the ordinary. And if anything worsens, page me immediately."

She nodded. "Thank you, Dr. Barrett."

The doctor left the room, and Eames returned to her partner, who was watching her again. "How do you feel, Bobby?"

He settled down on his side and tucked his arm under his head again. She'd seen him in that position many times. He smiled at her. "I'm ok. Why are you here?"

"Because I was worried about you."

"What for? I'm fine."

"I didn't know that, and they couldn't tell me anything for sure until you woke up. How long have you been awake?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

"You should have woken me."

"I liked watching you sleep."

"You've seen me sleep before, Bobby."

"Really?"

"Yes."

He looked thoughtful and shook his head. "When?"

She frowned. "A hundred times."

"Really? Where?"

"My place, your place."

"Your place?"

"Yes," she became tentative. "At my place…"

"Oh. So why would I…go to your place?"

"To work on cases, or for dinner, or just to hang out."

"And I stayed? All night?"

"Sometimes."

He nodded. "And you've been to my place?"

"Yes, of course. Bobby, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just…don't remember that."

"But it happens all the time."

He just nodded, looking into his mind for memories he could not access. She studied him. This could not be good. "Let me go get Dr. Barrett."

"Why? I don't feel any worse."

"But something's not right." She hesitated for a moment. "Bobby, do you know who I am?"

"Of course. You're my partner."

"What kind of partner?"

He smiled. "Are you sure _you_ are ok?"

"Just answer me."

"We're cops, and you're my partner."

"What's my name?"

"Are you sure you shouldn't be here in this bed?"

For some reason, she blushed, which made him laugh softly, triggering a coughing fit. She stepped to his side as he sat up, placing a hand on his back until the coughing subsided. She leaned over and looked at him, her face near his. "Are you ok?"

He turned his head to look at her, holding her gaze with his. "Yeah," he whispered. His fingers gently touched her chin and he let them caress her jawline. She stepped back, an odd look on her face. "Bobby, I'll be right back."

"I…did I do something wrong?"

She touched his fingers. "No. You're fine." She left the room. Heading toward the nurses station, she was relieved to find Dr. Barrett still there. "Doctor?"

"Oh, yes, Ms. Eames? Is something wrong?"

"I…I'm not sure. He's…well, something just isn't right. He…he's not remembering some things…"

"Like what?"

"Like the fact that he has seen me sleeping before. Or that we have spent a lot of off duty time together, working on cases, or just hanging out at my place or his. And he…he's just not…entirely…himself. I can't put a finger on it."

"You spend a lot of time with him?"

"Yes."

"So you know him well?"

"Probably better than anyone else does."

He nodded. "Then I can trust your instinct that something's wrong." He headed back to Goren's room with Eames right behind him, but he stopped outside the room and turned to Eames. "Ms. Eames, what did you and Robert do today?"

"We finished a case and then went out to visit his mom. It was a pretty long and difficult day. He had a difficult interrogation, and the visit with his mom wasn't easy."

"Where is his mother?"

"At Carmel Ridge. She has schizophrenia, and she…she didn't know him today. She got violent and had to be restrained and sedated."

"Is that a typical visit?"

"I haven't gone with him before, so I can't say for certain, but I do know it's not uncommon."

"And the fire?"

"We came across it on the way in from Carmel Ridge."

"How was his demeanor beforehand?"

"He was sleeping. It was an exhausting day for him, physically and emotionally."

Barrett nodded. "Ok. Thank you."

Goren looked up when they came in. "I don't know why she had you come back in here, doctor. I feel the same."

"How you're feeling isn't the issue, Robert. How you're behaving is."

"How I'm be…" He looked at Eames. "How am I behaving?"

"Something just isn't right, Bobby."

"Because I touched your chin?"

"No, no…that's just…part of it."

"I've never touched you before?"

Barrett held up his hand to silence Eames' reply. "Have you, Robert? Have you ever touched her before?"

"I thought…I mean…I must have…"

"Do you know for certain?"

He shook his head. "No, I don't remember. But if I've stayed at her place…"

"Not in my damn bed, Goren," Eames snapped.

Barrett was intrigued by his confused look "You aren't certain of your relationship with your partner?"

"My…oh, yeah…I guess I forgot that. I…I'm sorry, Eames. If I crossed any line…"

"No, Bobby. You didn't. I just…I'm worried."

The doctor pulled up a chair and sat down. "Do you remember how you got hurt, Robert?"

Eames recognized the look on his face, but the frown that accompanied it was new. "Uh, no."

"What did you do today?"

He shrugged. "What I always do."

"Which is?"

"I went to work."

"Where do you work?"

"At One Police Plaza. Major Case squad, eleventh floor."

The doctor nodded and looked at Eames, who confirmed what he'd said. "And what else?" Goren shrugged and looked at Eames. Barrett noticed the look. "Ms. Eames told me that your mother is still alive but not competent to make decisions regarding your care. So who has authorization to make those decisions for you if you cannot?"

"Alex does."

The doctor nodded. "Can you tell me why?"

Goren looked confused. "Why what?"

"Why did you give your partner so much responsibility for your welfare?"

There was that thoughtful look again. "Why?" He acted as though the answer was obvious and the doctor was an idiot. "Because she's all I have."

Barrett looked at Eames, who was looking at Goren with an odd expression on her face. The doctor was intrigued by these two partners, who appeared to him to be more than just partners on some level not even they seemed to understand. "Explain that for me, Robert."

Goren seemed to withdraw from some distant place in his partner's eyes. "What? Explain what?"

"She's all you have. I don't quite understand what you mean."

"I mean, she's all I have. I have no family, no one I can trust...like her. She's…more than family to me. I trust her to do what's best."

"And your mother?"

He frowned. "I love my mother, but she has never done what is best for me."

Barrett raised his eyebrows at that. "What do you mean?"

He could tell Goren was getting agitated now. "Just what I said. She never made the right decisions."

Barrett made mental note to save that for another time. "Where is she now?"

"Where is who?"

"Your mother."

"At Carmel Ridge. She has…schizophrenia."

"And have you seen her recently?"

"Every Wednesday."

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"It would have to have been Wednesday."

"Do you know what day it is today?"

"Uh, no, not for sure."

"It's 3:45 Thursday morning."

"Then I guess I saw her yesterday."

"But do you remember seeing her?"

There was that thoughtful look again. "I…uh, no." He looked concerned. "Doctor, what's wrong with me?"

"You had a head injury. People rarely ever remember the events that occurred right before and after such an injury."

"But there are other things…"

The doctor stood up and laid a reassuring hand on Goren's arm. "Get some sleep, Robert. I can have the nurse give you something if you can't. We'll talk more tomorrow, and see if we can't determine the extent of your memory loss. Ms. Eames is welcome to stay and participate. In fact," he looked at her. "I wish you would."

She nodded. The doctor smiled at her. "Ms. Eames, if I may have a word with you in the hallway."

She squeezed Goren's arm. "I'll be right back, Bobby."

Once in the hall, Barrett turned to her and said, "The mind is a very complicated thing."

Eames smiled. "Well, my partner's mind is more complicated than most."

Barrett laughed. "Maybe so. He…intrigues me."

"There's a new assessment. He intimidates most people, or simply scares the hell out of them. Is he going to be ok, doctor?"

"You care for him very much. That's important to him, and it's going to remain important for his recovery. The brain is an amazing organ, and his has suffered a nasty blow. The function of memory is much like the function of any recording device. It records everything that happens to us. Most things are discarded and forgotten. But other things are imprinted into our long-term memory. We can usually recall these events at will, like pressing a playback button. Robert's playback ability has been damaged, so he is not able to recall some things readily. We call that condition 'retrograde amnesia' when it affects past memories and 'anterograde amnesia' when the patient is unable to make new memories. From what I can tell, his ability to make new memories has been minimally affected. He can't remember the fire, but that is normal. Otherwise, he seems to remember all right—he remembers me, and that we talked earlier. He is somewhat confused and unable to keep track of the flow of conversation, but that, too, is normal following his type of injury."

"But what about this 'retrograde amnesia'?"

"Well, it's not total. He remembers where his mother is and that she is sick. He knows you and remembers that you are his partner. How long have you been partners?"

"Going on six years now."

"Remote long term memory is generally untouched. The fact that he is unclear regarding the parameters of your relationship is concerning. His recent past is locked in his mind. You cannot force the mind to remember, but something will trigger him to recall what he cannot now. You, of all people, must be patient with him, and gently remind him of what he has forgotten. He will become impatient and frustrated, but that, too, is not unusual. I suspect he will lash out at you, because you are his safety net. He probably doesn't even realize it, but he will trust you to never turn away from him, and that will be most important."

She nodded. "You have no idea, doctor."

"Go on back to him. I'll see you both tomorrow."

"Thank you, Dr. Barrett."

She went back into the room and looked at Goren. He was back on his side, staring at the wall, lost in thought. It comforted her to see something so familiar. Crossing the room, she sat back in her chair and looked at him. His eyes had followed her and he now watched her. Reaching out, she lightly caressed his temple. "Go to sleep, Bobby. I'll be here when you wake up."

"Promise?"

She smiled. "Promise."

She continued to lightly run her fingers in small circles on his temple and forehead until he fell asleep.


	4. Morning Rounds

Eames got up from the chair and stretched, trying to work out the kinks in her back. It wasn't the most comfortable chair in the world to sleep in. She looked out the window at the waking city. Checking the time, she grumbled to herself, "Six-twenty. Geez."

Turning back into the room, she looked at the bed. He was still sleeping. She went down to the cafeteria and got two cups of coffee, a Danish for her and an egg sandwich for him. She got back to the room, adjusted the food on the bedside tray and glanced at the bed. He was watching her. She smiled. "How do you feel?"

"I have a bad headache."

"Still dizzy or nauseous?"

"Dizzy, yes. Nauseous, just a little."

"Hungry? I brought you something to eat."

He grinned. "Thanks."

She hesitated before saying any more. She knew the doctor was going to try to figure out how serious his injury was today, but she was nervous about the answers, and she wasn't sure why. "Eames?"

She looked at him. "What?"

"Is something wrong?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Because you keep adding sugar to your coffee."

Her stomach clenched. _Gently remind him of what he has forgotten_. "That's how I take it, Bobby."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Don't apologize." She walked around the tray and sat on the edge of the bed, resting her hand lightly on his arm. "There is no need for you to apologize for not being able to remember. You have no control over that. We'll deal with it, but I don't want to spend the next however long it's going to take listening you to apologize all the time."

There was that shy half-smile. "I'll try to remember that."

A soft knock disturbed their conversation. Barrett came into the room. "Good morning, Robert, Ms. Eames."

"Hello, Doctor." Eames answered. Goren just smiled.

She slid off the bed as the doctor came forward and asked, "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Still not great."

"I'm pleased to see you awake, Robert." He noticed the food on the tray. "I am sorry for disturbing your breakfast."

"Oh, we weren't eating yet. We were…discussing how she takes her coffee."

Eames met the doctor's eyes. "He doesn't remember."

The doctor nodded understanding. He looked at Goren. "Do you remember anything we talked about earlier?"

"We talked about Eames."

"Very good. What did we say about her?"

Goren looked at her. "I like to watch her sleep," he answered, a smile playing at his mouth. "And she's not comfortable when I touch her."

The doctor was surprised at that interpretation. That was not the impression he had gotten at all. And wasn't she just sitting on the bed beside him with her hand on his arm? "Anything else?"

"I told you she's all I have, and the only one I trust to watch out for me."

"Very good. What else did we discuss?"

"How I got hurt."

"Do you remember that?"

"I remember talking about it. I don't remember it happening."

"That's fine. Is that it?"

A shadow crossed his face. "We talked about my mother."

"Excellent. The few hours of rest you got seems to have helped you a lot. Your short term recall is intact, which is very good. Your confusion has diminished as well."

"What confusion?"

"Earlier you had difficulty following our conversation. You have no such problem now."

"Can that return?" Eames asked.

"Yes. And it probably will when he is fatigued, but it will continue to improve as his brain recovers from its injury until it no longer becomes an issue."

Goren leaned back on the bed, tucked his arms behind his head and looked at the ceiling as he listened to them talk. The doctor looked at him, curious. Eames noticed the doctor's expression and smiled. "He's thinking," she explained. "He does that a lot."

Goren lifted his head and looked at them. "I have a lot to think about," he said simply.

"You always do," she replied.

He pushed himself up onto his elbows. "Do I?"

She nodded. "Yes, Bobby. You do."

He tilted his head and looked at her. "I think you're right," he said after a minute. "I need to…figure things out."

"Yes, you do. You try to figure out _everything_. And you're very good at it."

The frown finally faded from his face. "Lots of practice," he explained simply.

Barrett stood silently, watching the simple interaction between the partners. As he had hoped, she was gentle and understanding, and he responded to that well. "I have to finish my rounds now, but I'll be back this afternoon." He looked at Eames. "Will you be here?"

"I have to go home to shower and change, and check in with our captain, but I'll be back. What time do you expect to be here?"

"Probably around two."

"I'll make sure I'm back by two."

"Very good." He stepped up to Goren's side. "Look at me, Robert." He shined his light in his eyes, then listened to his chest. "You need to cough some more, clear that congestion. I'll see you this afternoon."

Goren grinned. "I'm not going anywhere, apparently."

Barrett smiled in return. "Not yet."

He looked at Eames, then left the room. She turned to Goren. "Your coffee is getting cold."

"So is yours. All that sugar is going to settle into sludge in your cup."

She smiled as she handed him his coffee and took hers, sitting in the chair and studying him. "What?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like something's wrong."

"Something is wrong, Bobby."

"What's wrong?"

"You're sitting in a hospital bed and you have to ask me what's wrong?"

"I…" he stopped, frowning. "Never mind, then."

"Don't get mad," she soothed. "It bothers me that you can't remember things."

"You worry that my mind is going to slip away like my mother's did."

"_You_ worry about that."

"Do I? I guess that makes sense."

"I don't worry about your mind, Bobby. You have the sharpest mind of anyone I know."

"It's a little dull right now."

"I know. And that's why I'm worried about you."

He sighed. "I don't know what to tell you."

"Just tell me you're going to be ok."

"If I knew I would be, I'd tell you that in a second. But I don't want to lie to you."

"You don't think you'll be ok?"

"I don't know for sure, Eames. Right now I feel…fuzzy. Nothing is clear." He watched her. She seemed troubled. "Is something bothering you?"

Normally he wouldn't ask. He would simply state what he saw as obvious. He would be able to tell that something was indeed bothering her and he'd never question his interpretation. If nothing else, Bobby was always confident with his interpretations. She sighed. "I'm bothered that you aren't acting like yourself."

He raised his eyebrows. "Who am I acting like?"

She laughed softly. "I'm not saying you're acting like someone else. You just…aren't completely yourself."

Now he looked confused. "If I'm not myself, who am I?"

"Don't be difficult. And when the doctor says you have amnesia, 'who am I' is not a question I want to hear you asking."

"Amnesia? Who said I have amnesia?"

"Dr. Barrett did, last night when I talked to him in the hall. I'm sure he'll go over it with you this afternoon."

He was annoyed. "I don't care that he tells you what's going on, but I shouldn't be cut out of the loop."

"He isn't trying to cut you out of any loop. He was answering my questions."

"And you never said anything to me?"

She started to snap at him, but Barrett's words returned to her. _He will become impatient and frustrated, but that, too, is to be expected. I suspect he will lash out at you, because you are his safety net_. She forced down her annoyance. "You went to sleep, remember?"

He rubbed his temple. "I…I'm sorry. I…shouldn't have snapped at you."

"This is going to get very tedious if I have to keep reminding you not to apologize."

"You said not to apologize for not remembering. I'm apologizing for getting mad at you. It's not your fault."

She started laughing. "There's nothing wrong with your mind," she said, giving him a hug. She kissed his cheek. "Look, I'm going to run home to shower and change. Then I need to go in to the squad and talk to Deakins. I'll be back in a couple of hours. Are you ok with that?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

She smiled at him. "I'll see you later, then."

"Bye."

He watched her leave, then he turned onto his side, allowing himself to feel the pain he'd tried to keep hidden from her. He rubbed his temple, but it didn't help any. He tried to sleep, but he couldn't. Reluctantly, he rang for the nurse and asked for something to help with the pain, knowing it would also help him to sleep. Then the time would pass more quickly until Eames returned.


	5. Interview with Dr Foster

Eames walked in to the squad room just before lunch. "Hey, Eames," Mike Logan called. "How's Goren doing?"

She walked over to the pair of desks where he sat with his partner. "Hey, guys. He's ok."

"Captain told us what he did. Running _into_ a burning building? He's either got a lot of guts or no brains."

Barek gave him a look. "My vote is for guts. I don't know anyone, aside from you, who would even suggest he's got no brains."

Eames just grinned at them, heading on to Deakins office. The captain looked up when she knocked. "Come in, Alex. How's Bobby doing?"

She sat down. "He woke up around three this morning. There is a problem, though. He's having trouble with his memory…a type of amnesia associated with head injuries. This afternoon the doctor is going to try to determine the extent of the problem, and he'd like me to be there."

Deakins nodded. "What do you think?"

"I'm not a doctor."

"No, but you know Goren better than anyone."

She sighed. "I…I think there's something wrong. He doesn't remember things he should. He's confused…and just…well, not entirely himself. I guess I'll know more later, after the doctor evaluates him some more. I'll call you and let you know what he says."

He nodded. "Physically he's ok, though?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure how long he's going to have to stay in the hospital."

"Keep me informed. And tell him I said hello. I'll stop by later."

He watched her leave. He knew that she always worried about her partner, but this was more than her usual concern. And that just didn't sit well with him. Not at all.

She stopped at her desk, thumbing through the paperwork from yesterday's case. She took care of the papers Carver would need right away, then got ready to leave.

"Hey there."

She looked over her shoulder. "What do you want, Logan?"

"I, uh, d'you think he'd be ok with visitors later?"

"What kind of visitors?"

"Just Barek and me."

She studied him. "I suppose it'd be ok. He likes Barek."

"Ouch. Ok, I'll wait in the car."

She smiled. "Not necessary. I'll warn him you're coming…just so he can be prepared."

"Gee, thanks. But don't do me any favors."

"Promise me you'll behave."

"Now where's the fun in that?"

"You have too much fun, Logan. See you later."

He watched her head for the elevators and he smiled.

-----------------------------------------------------------

He was still sleeping when Barrett returned after lunch. Since he didn't see Eames around, he decided to check on a couple of other patients and then return. When he got back, she still wasn't there, but Goren was awake. "Hello, Robert. How are you feeling this afternoon?"

"My head still hurts."

"Nausea, dizziness, ringing in your ears, blurry vision?"

"Yes, yes, no, a little."

Barrett looked at him, a small smile touching his mouth. "Where is Ms. Eames? Has she returned yet?"

"No."

"She did say she would, didn't she?" More memory testing.

"She would what?"

Barrett studied him, a deep frown creasing his features. "Don't mess with me, Robert."

"Why would I do that?"

"Do you think Ms. Eames will come back this afternoon?"

"Yes. She will."

"And what makes you so certain?"

Goren's mouth twitched. "She's right behind you."

Barrett turned, and there she was, arms folded, looking annoyed. "I don't know what you think you're doing, Dr. Barrett, but never lead him to question my loyalty."

"I apologize," he said sincerely as he sat down. "I was not trying to make him question anything." He looked at Goren. "Robert, I want to do some further testing. It's not uncommon for someone with an injury like yours to have a normal CT scan but still have signs of brain trauma. I would like to order further testing which will tell us the extent of the damage."

"What kind of testing?"

"Neuropsychological testing."

He looked thoughtful. Eames said, "He's not crazy."

The doctor was surprised by the emotion she put into her defense of her partner. "I never said he was. Neuropsych testing is used to determine how brain function affects behavior, memory, learning and thinking. Well, Robert?"

"I have a question for you first."

"Ok. What's your question?"

"Eames told me you said I have amnesia. I want to hear about that from you."

"It's called retrograde amnesia, and it simply means you cannot recall past events. It's a malfunction with your brain's memory recall function, and it should be temporary. The neuropsych testing will tell us how severe it is and enable us to give you a more accurate prognosis."

Goren thought about what he said before he finally nodded. "All right."

"Very good then. I'll be right back."

Eames approached the bed. "I'm sorry I'm late. Traffic was a bitch."

He smiled. "I knew you were coming."

"Oh? Clairvoyant now, are we?"

A hint of a smile touched his face. "No. Just trusting."

She shook her head. "You don't trust anyone, Bobby."

"No one, except you."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Very."

She laid her hand on his arm and squeezed. "Oh, the captain says hi and Logan and Barek are going to stop by after work."

"Who?"

"Logan and Barek. We work with them. Last week we went out with them for drinks and you nearly decked him for some stupid comment he made."

He nodded. "Oh."

"Do you remember that?"

"No, but I remember them. I think."

She started to reply, but the door opened again and Barrett returned with another doctor. He was also a young man, but his features were not as stern as Barrett's. He smiled easily. "Hi, folks. I'm Dr. Daniel Foster. I'm a neuropsychologist on staff and Dr. Barrett has asked me to do some tests on you, Robert. Uh, do you go by Robert, or would you prefer something else?"

Goren shrugged. "Whatever. Most people call me Bobby."

"Then that's what I'll call you." He looked at Eames. "And you are?"

"Alex Eames, his partner," she answered, accepting his outstretched hand.

Barrett added, "For all intents and purposes, his 'significant other.'"

Goren raised his eyebrows and looked at her, noting that she was not surprised by the doctor's use of the term. She just nodded at him with a small smile, a look he correctly interpreted as meaning 'I'll explain later.'

Foster didn't miss the brief exchange. He rubbed his hands together. "As much fun as this would be over a couple of beers, the hospital frowns on that. So we're kinda stuck with this room and some apple juice. Or I can find a conference room, if you'd prefer."

Goren shook his head. "Here is fine."

Barrett said, "Then I'll leave you to your work. Call me if you need anything." He stopped at the door. "Robert, I left orders for pain medicine for your headache if you want it, and for something to help you sleep if you need it. Just ask."

"Thanks."

"I'll stop by before I leave for the night."

Foster pulled a chair closer to the bed, flipping it around and straddling it, the way Eames had seen Goren sit many times. He propped a pad of paper in front of him. "Getting ready for an interrogation, doctor?"

He grinned. "You're cops…I almost forgot. We're just gonna talk this afternoon. Before I start the testing, I want to get a feel for the kind of guy you are. The testing can take awhile…like 6 hours, sometimes more. We can split it up if that's too much for you. Just let me know. But we'll get to that tomorrow. Now if this seems repetitive or tedious, that's because it is. Just bear with me. Bobby, I want you to tell me how you got hurt."

He shrugged. "I have no idea."

"Well, that was easy. You don't remember the incident?"

He shook his head. "Not even a little."

Foster looked at Eames. "Were you there?"

"Yes, but I wasn't with him when he was hurt. He went into a burning building to rescue a little boy. When he came out, his head was bleeding and he collapsed soon after."

"But he was conscious."

"Yes."

"Did he say anything?"

"Not really. He just said he was sorry right before he lost consciousness."

He looked at Goren. "What were you sorry for?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

He looked back at Eames, who explained, "He apologized because I was worried about him."

Foster smiled. "That was very considerate."

Eames nodded. "That's Bobby."

"Before we get on with more recent things, let's talk about ancient history. How was your childhood, Bobby?"

Eames saw the shadow descend into his eyes. So did Foster. "It was…difficult."

"How so?"

"My mother was sick. She could be…unpredictable."

"What do you mean?"

Goren shifted uncomfortably, wincing uncomfortably as his headache worsened. He looked at Eames, seeing sympathy in her eyes. Sympathy he could accept; at least it wasn't pity. "She has schizophrenia. When she didn't take her medicine, 'they' would always come to get her or to hurt me. Sometimes she thought I was 'them.'"

"And who were 'they?'"

"If you ever find out, let me know."

Foster understood. "What about your father? Was he around?"

"Unfortunately. He left my mother when I was 11, but he was…never faithful to the family."

"To the family? What do you mean?"

Goren rubbed his temple. "He was rarely home. He'd come home late, and I always knew where he'd been, even when I was little. Sometimes he would even take me with him, and tell me to get lost for a few hours while he 'took care of business.' He was a player, a drunk and a gambler. My mother wasn't able to protect herself from his cruelty much less a little boy who didn't know enough to stay out of Daddy's way."

The doctor didn't miss the bitterness in his voice, and neither did Eames. Foster wrote on his pad _Remote childhood memories and feelings intact._

"Were you abused?"

He just nodded.

"Do you have any siblings?"

"An older brother."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know. We were never close. He wasn't home much as we got older and he took off as soon as he could."

"If your brother wasn't around and your father left…"

"I took care of my mother…until she got too sick. Then I admitted her at Carmel Ridge."

"So even as a child, you were the one who cared for your mother." Another nod. "Bobby, you told Dr. Barrett that your mother never did what was best for you. What did you mean by that?"

"Just what I said. Her…illness kept her from being a good mom."

"Can you give me an example?"

"No."

"No, you can't or no, you won't?"

He looked down at his hands and refused to look up. "I w-won't."

Foster was quiet for a long moment, but he finally decided not to push it. When they began discussing his childhood, he'd noticed the change in demeanor as well as an apparent increase in pain. His brow was deeply furrowed and he rubbed his forehead often. He was obviously agitated. The doctor also noticed how his eyes would often seek out his partner's, and he wondered if he was even aware he was doing it. "Do you have any contact with her now?"

"I call every day and visit once a week…and holidays."

"Did you visit her yesterday?"

"If it was Wednesday I did."

"Let me rephrase the question. Do you remember visiting her yesterday?"

"Uh, no." He shifted his eyes to look at Eames again. She was still sitting quietly against the wall, just watching him, silently offering support. This wasn't easy for him but there was nothing she could do to help him. Foster looked at her as well. "Did you go with him to Carmel Ridge yesterday?"

"Yes."

"How did it go?"

"It was a difficult visit at the end of a difficult day. She was having a psychotic episode and she didn't know him. She got violent and they had to restrain and sedate her."

Foster nodded and looked back at Goren. "Do you remember anything else that happened yesterday?"

He looked thoughtful, but he didn't answer. Foster looked at Eames, then back at Goren. "Bobby?"

He took a deep breath. "I woke up in a hospital room."

"Woke up from what?"

"I don't know," he said more loudly than he intended. He was getting frustrated.

Foster's voice was gentle, soothing. "That's ok." He waited for a few minutes to see if Goren would calm down. He didn't. So he switched gears, looking for a topic that would help him calm. "Have you always been a cop?"

"Yes. I was in the army as a criminal investigator and then I joined the NYPD."

"Any significant relationships as an adult?"

"I have Eames."

Again Foster looked at her, then back at him. "She's important to you."

He nodded. And he noticed the change. His face relaxed; his agitation, which had begun to ease when they stepped away from talking about his childhood, vanished. He was calm now. "She's my partner," he said simply.

"And what does that mean to you?"

He thought about that. "It means everything."

Eames was quiet as she said, "Tell him why, Bobby."

"I-It's because she stayed."

Intrigued, Foster rested his chin on his hands. "She stayed?"

Goren looked at her, held her eyes. "Yeah. I…I have my own way of doing things. People don't always…like my methods. I…I had trouble keeping a partner. They'd last a few weeks, a month or two at most, and then they were…gone. But Eames stayed."

"I see how that would be significant."

He nodded. Foster looked at her. "And how do you feel?"

"The same way. He's important to me, too."

He shifted back to Goren. "I'm going to talk with her alone for a few minutes, Bobby. I also want to talk to your captain this afternoon. I'll be back in the morning to start the testing. Ok?"

He nodded. "Whatever."

Foster stood and motioned to Eames. At the door, he stopped and looked back at Goren. He had his hand pressed against his forehead over his eye. "I'll have the nurse bring you something for that pain, ok?"

Again, he simply nodded.

Eames walked with him to the nurse's station and waited while he talked with the nurse. Then he returned to her side. "Have a cup of coffee with me?"

"All right."

When they got on the elevator, and no one else did, he said, "You have to have noticed what happened in there."

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't you notice how his behavior changed when we left the subject of his early life and started to talk about you?"

"Bobby had a very hard childhood, and his early adulthood was shadowed by the threat of his mother's disease. He's had a very haunted life."

"Until you came into it."

"Don't think I fixed anything, doctor. He's still haunted by many things. Bobby feels things very deeply."

"And what about people?"

"He doesn't let people in. He tries hard to protect himself from being hurt any more."

"He's let you in."

She looked at him. "You think so?"

"I know so."

"Well, it wasn't always like that. He knows by now that I'm not going to hurt him. Not intentionally."

They exited the elevator and headed for the cafeteria. He got two cups of coffee and she followed him to a quiet table away from the few others who were scattered around the cafeteria. "He said he does things his own way. What did he mean by that?"

"That was a nice way of telling you others see him as weird. Go to the scene of a homicide with him and you'll understand. Bobby doesn't investigate a scene; he experiences it. He looks, listens, touches, smells. It can be…unsettling to watch a guy like him lean over to smell a body."

He laughed. "I can see what you mean. Is that why he had trouble keeping a partner?"

"That's a big part of it. Bobby can be very…intense. People don't know how to handle him."

"Why did you stay, uh, may I call you Alex?"

She nodded. "It was hard at first. I even put in a request for another partner. But I withdrew it."

"Why?"

"Because…something changed. _He_ changed. Somehow, he started looking at me as…part of him. I don't know how or why, but he began telling me what he was thinking, and he realized I could actually follow him. He didn't have to stop and explain himself, which he hates to do because it slows him down. Sometimes it's hard to slow him down."

"Have you noticed a change in him since the accident?"

"Yes. He doesn't remember things he should. He knows who I am, but he doesn't seem sure exactly where I fit in his…in his heart, I guess. He knows I'm his partner, and he knows what that means. But he seems willing to approach a line he's never come near before."

"How's that?"

"I don't know how to explain it. The way he looks at me, or touches me…I don't know."

"Alex, did you notice anything when we were discussing his childhood?"

"I noticed it was very hard for him."

"Yes, it was. And he was constantly seeking comfort from you."

"I don't know what good that did. There was nothing I could do."

"You were there. That was enough. That was all he needed, just to know you were there." He rubbed his chin. "What did Dr. Barrett tell you about his injury?"

"He said something about amnesia, and that his confusion is not uncommon."

"Did he say anything about your role in his recovery?"

"Just that he will probably get frustrated and he might lash out at me."

"He very well might. And it's not because he doesn't love you. It's because he knows you love him."

"He said I was Bobby's safety net."

"A good analogy. When he stumbles or falls, he trusts you will be there to catch him and help him back up. I suspect trust has always been an issue for him."

She nodded. "Bobby trusts no one with his heart."

Foster smiled. "No one but you, Alex."

When she returned to his room, he was sleeping. So she sat down and thought about what Foster had said. She'd never really given it much thought before, but he was right. Goren did trust her with his heart, and for Bobby, that was the ultimate trust.


	6. Testing

They were watching the news in companionable silence when Logan and Barek arrived. A soft knock at the door, and they came into the room. Logan hung back, letting his partner say hello first. "Hey, guys," she said. "How are you feeling, Bobby?"

He nodded. "I'm doing ok."

Eames watched him, looking for a sign of recognition. There was a flicker in his eye…so maybe…

Logan came forward, holding out his hand, which Goren took without hesitation. "You don't look so bad," Logan commented. "We were told you went in to a burning building."

"Yeah, that's what I've been told, too."

"Can't remember, huh?"

He shook his head. "Nope."

"You, uh, remember us?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Yeah, I do."

He remembered them, but he could recall no details of his involvement with them. He looked at Barek. "You guys working a case?"

She shook her head. "No. We finished our case yesterday. Just waiting for the next one."

"There's always a next one."

She nodded. "There's never a shortage of creeps out there."

Logan had leaned back against the wall. "When you get out of here, maybe we can try going out again. I promise I won't insult your partner again."

Goren frowned. "You insulted her?"

Eames touched his arm. "No, Bobby. It was an offhand comment you misunderstood. Logan's full of those." She looked at Logan. "He doesn't remember, you idiot."

Logan almost smiled. "Me and my big mouth."

"What did he say?"

"Never mind, Bobby. It wasn't important."

He looked at her, but she didn't seem to be upset, so he decided to let the matter drop. His gaze shifted to Logan. "Just watch what you say."

Barek laughed. "That's like asking a cow to quack instead of moo."

Eames also laughed. Goren had no frame of reference, so he was a bit confused and Logan just frowned at Barek. "Well, look, we were on our way to grab a bite for dinner," Barek said. "We wanted to stop by and say hi. Get better fast, Bobby. I can't speak for Logan, but I miss having you around the squad room."

Logan said, "When Eames comes back, I have a feeling I'm going to be ganged up on, so you'd better get well fast. Then you can take at least some of the heat off me."

Barek pushed him toward the door. "If you wouldn't open your mouth so much and say the wrong thing, no one would have to cook your goose."

Goren grinned. "Thanks for coming by."

They waved and left. As soon as they were out the door, he looked at Eames. "What did he say?"

"I'm not opening that can of worms again. Forget it. If you really want to get pissed, just wait. He'll say something before too long."

The big cop laughed. "I like them."

"You've always liked Barek. Logan takes some getting used to."

"So do I, Eames."

She laughed with him. That was very true. Another knock sounded at the door and Barrett came into the room. "Good evening. How are you doing, Robert?"

"I'm ok."

"I talked with Dr. Foster. He's planning to start his testing in the morning. The couple who were just in here…friends?"

Goren looked at Eames, not sure how to answer. Eames nodded. "We work together, and they dropped by to see how he's doing."

"You remember them?"

Goren nodded. "I do. I'm not sure about how I've related to them in the past, though."

"Hmmm. You don't seem to have a problem remembering people. But you do have trouble recalling relationships. I'll mention that to Dr. Foster." He stepped to the bedside. "Let's listen to those lungs."

He laid his stethoscope against Goren's chest and listened. "Cough for me."

He did, which triggered a series of coughs. Barrett nodded. "You're moving air well. Keep coughing and breathing deeply. We should be able to take you off the oxygen tomorrow."

"When can I get out of here?"

"Let's see what Dr. Foster finds out. Maybe sometime this weekend we can discharge you."

"And I can go back to work?"

"We'll see, Robert. Ok? I'll see you in the morning. Have a good night."

He smiled at Eames and left the room.

She looked at her partner. "Why are you frowning?"

"I don't like hearing 'We'll see.'"

"Let's take this one step at a time, ok?"

"Like I have a choice."

She remained with him until the evening nurse came in to take his vitals at a quarter after eight. She gave him two tablets and left the room. Eames watched him take the medicine, then said, "Bobby, I'm exhausted. I need to go home and sleep in my bed."

He nodded. "Then go. I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Of course. I'm going in to get the paperwork done on the case we just finished, before Carver starts squawking about it. I'll be back in the afternoon sometime."

He nodded. "Ok. Drive safely. Give me a call when you get home."

She smiled. That was more like her partner talking. She leaned closer and kissed his cheek. He brought his hand up and touched her cheek hesitantly. "Thanks, Eames."

She didn't move away. "For what?"

"For staying here with me."

"That's not a problem. Call me if you need anything, ok?"

He nodded. She looked into his dark eyes and she smiled at him. Lightly, she kissed his lips. "Good night, Bobby."

She headed out the door and he laid back, folded his arms behind his head and watched the ceiling, letting his thoughts roam where they would…and they always roamed back to her.

-----------------------------------------------

She returned after work the next day to find him sleeping. She went out to the nurse's station. A nurse she had not seen before looked up at her. "May I help you?"

"I'd like to speak to Bobby Goren's nurse, please."

"Are you family?"

"Yes," she answered, tired of explaining herself.

"One minute please."

A few minutes later, an older lady approached her. "You have a question about Mr. Goren?"

"Yes. I just wanted to know if he's ok."

"Dr. Foster was in there with him all day, and when they were done, the doctor asked me to give him something for pain. Dr. Barrett had ordered oral medicine as well as intravenous medicine, and Dr. Foster asked me to give him the IV medicine. He's been sleeping for the past half hour or so."

"Is Dr. Foster still around?"

"He's in the conference room. I'll take you over there."

It was on the other side of the floor, and the nurse led her there. Eames entered the room, and Foster looked up from papers he had strewn all over the table. "Hi, Alex."

"You wore him out?"

Foster laughed. "Apparently. He wanted to get it all done, and by the time we had finished he was in a great deal of pain. I had them give him the strongest medicine Barrett had ordered, and it helped him to sleep as well. It was a very long day." He indicated the papers spread out on the table. "Please sit down. I'd like to talk to you."

She sat down near him at the head of the conference table. "So…what's your impression of my partner?"

Foster laughed again. "I could earn _several_ Ph.D.'s studying that man. My first impression is his intelligence. He has a brilliant mind. My second impression is his vulnerability." He tapped his pencil on the table thoughtfully, then he looked at her. "Alex, I am going to be brutally honest with you here. You know he had a harsh upbringing. Nearly every security children depend on was shattered for him. He has spent his adult years trying to redefine security, and he was grasping at straws, until you came into his life. You have come to define security for him. I really cannot put into words the depth of his attachment to you. It's not something he consciously realizes. But what he does realize is the depth of his feeling for you, and that frightens him. He has been so afraid to let you in, Alex. He's so afraid of getting hurt again. He's such a powerful man, but he has a very fragile heart. He has never let himself get close to anyone before. Every relationship he described to me was superficial, except for his relationship with you. He has never equated sex with love, and even now the only thing in his life he really does equate with love is his partnership with you. The only reason I am telling you this is because I don't think either of you realize how very important you are to each other. If either of you were to step out of the other's life for any reason, the results would be devastating, for both of you—but especially for him, even if he was the one to step away."

She looked at the papers spread over the table. "I have no intention of leaving him, Dr. Foster."

"I'm glad to hear that. I'm sure you realize that's his biggest fear."

She nodded. "What about this head injury?"

"Would it surprise you if I told you that was complicated?"

She laughed. "No, it wouldn't."

"I still have a lot of scoring and interpreting to do. I'll probably be here half the night. But in a nutshell…his long term recall for the past couple of years has been damaged, but it's recovering. The fact that he knew your friends last evening proves that, even if he wasn't certain about his exact relationship with them. That will come back, particularly as he spends more time with them. His immediate and short-term recall are intact. Dr. Barrett told me you were concerned that he didn't remember the details of your relationship. You were unsettled by his affection?"

"Only because it was something new. I am worried about him."

Foster nodded. "I understand that. The affection you saw from him was genuine. It may not have been part of your perception of your relationship, but it has always been part of his. Perhaps he will once again suppress it as he recovers, but I would be more inclined to ask you not to let that happen. It's not good for him to keep such powerful feelings submerged. At the very least, I would urge you to discuss it with him, and decide for yourselves what to do about it. But he needs to acknowledge how he feels, Alex. And so do you."

"So what do I do here, doctor? Do I sit and wait for him to wake up and discuss it or what?"

"He has been looking forward to seeing you, so don't leave without at least saying hello. As for the how and when of talking to him…that's entirely up to you. I'll have all my results tomorrow, and I'll talk to both of you then, but I was so powerfully impressed by his fears and feelings in regard to you, I felt obliged to talk to you as soon as I could."

"Thank you, Dr. Foster."

She got up from the table and left the room. She headed back toward his room, lost in thought. She entered the room and stood quietly watching him sleep. And she wondered how two people from such disparate backgrounds could grow together to come to the same place in each other's hearts.


	7. Her Ultimatum

She heard him groan and looked over at the bed. He rolled over and slowly opened his eyes. She set aside the book she'd been reading and watched him. He looked at her for a moment, and she wasn't quite sure he realized she was there until the fog cleared from his brain. Then his frown fell away and a small smile took its place. "Hi," he said softly. "How long have you been here?"

"Not horribly long." She wasn't about to tell him she'd been sitting there for three-and-a-half hours. "I heard you had a long day."

His smile vanished. "You talked to Dr. Foster?"

"Briefly. He's busy scoring and interpreting the tests."

"What…what did he t-tell you?"

"What are you worried about?"

"I-I'm not worried."

"Don't even try that with me. I can see it in your eyes. What did you tell him that you're afraid he told me?"

He rolled onto his back and frowned at the ceiling. "Everything."

She sat there, uncertain about what to say. She didn't know whether to be sympathetic or annoyed. She wasn't at all certain which she was feeling, but the longer he remained silent, the more she was leaning toward annoyed. She wasn't in the mood for his obstinacy. "Ok, Bobby. I've been sitting here since six o'clock so you wouldn't think I'd forgotten about you. I can just as easily sit at home in the silence as I can here, and my chairs are a hell of a lot more comfortable. So I'm going home, and you can call me when you're ready to talk. Tell Dr. Foster if he has anything earth-shattering to share with me, he can call my cell phone."

She got up and headed for the door. Just when she thought he really wasn't going to call her bluff, he said, very softly, "Eames."

She stopped. Slowly she turned toward him, frowning. "Did you say something?" He was looking down at his hands, but he nodded. Well, at least it was a reply. "Should I go?" He still didn't look up or say anything, but he shook his head. She let out her breath in an annoyed huff. "If you aren't going to talk to me, there's no point in my staying."

Finally, he looked up. "What do you _want_ to do?"

There was that fear Foster had told her about, hiding behind a look that challenged her to tell him the truth…the real truth. What did she want to do? Of course she wanted what was best for him. And he wanted what was best for her. But unless they started with what was best for themselves, there was going to be no peace for either of them. "Right now, I want to smack you."

"Why?"

"Because you're so damn stubborn, you jackass."

"I…I'm stubborn?" He seemed genuinely surprised. He did not see himself as stubborn. Of course, he didn't see himself as unconventional, either. Not usually.

"Yes, Goren. You are stubborn." She approached the bed with a look of determination that unsettled him. She raised a finger and pointed at him. "You…"

A soft knock interrupted her tirade before it began. The door opened and Barrett came in, followed by Foster. The two doctors looked at the detectives. Barrett asked, "Are we interrupting?"

"Yes," Eames snapped at the same moment Goren replied, "No."

Foster nodded. "Oh, that's good. We can come back."

Eames shook her head. "No, don't leave. Do whatever you came in to do. We can finish this later."

Foster moved closer. "This?"

She met his eyes. "Have you finished with your scoring and interpreting?" she challenged, feeling like a schoolteacher asking a student if his homework was done.

The doctor smiled. "As a matter of fact, I have. I thought it was going to take a lot longer."

Barrett pulled up a chair and sat down. Foster looked from Eames to Goren, who looked very uncomfortable. "Have you had a chance to talk?" he asked, looking back at Eames.

"Not yet," she answered.

"Talk…about what?" Goren asked tentatively.

"About you, idiot," Eames snapped. "For someone so damn smart you can ask the most ridiculous questions." She was reaching the end of her patience with him.

"What happened?" Foster asked. "Why are you angry with him?"

"I'm not angry, but I'm getting fed up. He won't talk to me, and I am tired of having to chase down answers to my questions and have him turn them back on me."

"I don't…" he protested.

"Yes, Bobby, you do. I give you two choices, and you have to look for a third. I ask for a simple yes or no, and you try to hide behind anything but the answer. I want to know what you're afraid of, and you try to chase me away. Why do you have to make things so damn difficult? What the hell are you afraid of?"

Shit…she stopped just short of losing her control. She felt the sting of tears but she fought them back, along with the lump in her throat that just would not be swallowed. He looked at her, forgetting the two doctors were there. He saw the tears rise up in her eyes, even though they retreated quickly. "I…I'm afraid of _you_, Eames."

"What?" She stared at him for a moment. Six foot four, a mountain of muscle, and he was afraid of her, five foot three, a mountain of attitude? She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, once again battling the conflicting desires of wanting to hug him and hit him, and not knowing which she wanted to do more. "I swear, Goren…you make me work for every piece of you that you'll share with me, and I'm tired."

"Tired? Of me?"

There it was. Three words that embodied the core of his deepest fear. She studied him, and there it was, in his eyes. She had never seen raw fear in her partner's eyes before. He had never let her see him like that, unguarded. No wonder he hid his feelings. If he didn't fight them down, they would overwhelm and consume him. He wasn't hiding now. Three words and he laid it all out on the table. Her answer was going to make or break him. "No, Bobby." She had to be honest with him. Her anger was gone, along with her frustration. "I have never been tired of you. But I get tired of the games, of jumping through hoops to get the smallest inkling of who you are. I don't understand why you keep hiding from me. How can you reach out to me with one hand and push me away with the other? Either you want me, or you don't, and only you can make that choice. And don't tell me it's whatever I want. That's not going to work. You have to want it, too."

Move and countermove. The ball was now in his court. She was playing his game now, turning his question back on him, looking for an answer and wondering if he was inclined to give it…or was he going to hide again? She was either going to draw him out or drive him back further into himself than he was before. Foster could see the struggle in his eyes. It was a huge risk, opening himself wholly to another person. And it was not something he had ever done before. He had spent his entire life hiding and protecting his heart. Foster wasn't sure he had it in him to change that pattern. He could see him start to turn back into himself, to shut himself off from her. Eames could see it, too. Her shoulders started to sag, defeated. But then she straightened herself up. She had one last play: her trump card.

She stepped up to the bed. "Look at me, Goren." He hesitated. "Bobby…" Finally, he met her eyes. "You have two choices here. You can turn back in to yourself, which is what you seem to be doing, and you can be alone again. That's all you'll ever be if you keep yourself locked inside that head of yours. Or you can decide, once and for all, to take a chance. I know you've been hurt before. And you don't want to feel that pain again. But if you don't take the chance, you'll never know what love really can be." She laid her hand on his. "I don't know if you've ever really been loved by anyone. You've been hurt, and you've been used…and I know you've done some using yourself. But I will not be used, and I will not be played for a fool. If I am going to open myself up to you, damn it, then you are going to do the same. So if you want me, really want me, to be a part of you, stop hiding from me. It's all or nothing, Goren, and if you choose nothing, that's what you're going to have, forever. I'll be your partner. I promised I wouldn't leave you and I won't. But if partner is the only relationship you want with me, go ahead and return your heart to that dark hole inside your mind. Lock it away. And lose whatever we could have had." She sat down and rubbed her forehead. "Now you've given me a headache." When he remained silent, she got to her feet. "I need some fresh air and you obviously need time to think. I'll be back."

She glanced at Foster and Barrett, suddenly remembering they were there. But she did not look at Goren. She almost ran out the door. Goren laid his head back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling and ignoring the two doctors. But Foster was not inclined to let him get away with it. "What are you going to do, Bobby?"

He looked up suddenly, frowning, realizing both doctors had witnessed the entire thing. Her ultimatum. Dark anger brewed in his eyes as he faced Foster. "This is your fault. What the hell did you tell her?"

"Nothing she didn't already know."

"You put her up to this!"

"No. I didn't. You did. Go ahead and retreat from her again. You will be sending her away for good. I don't think she's going to be inclined to give you another chance. She's going to swallow her pain and take her heart to someone who is not afraid to love her."

"I'm not…!" He stopped, realizing he was shouting at the doctor. Slowly, Foster's words registered. "You son of a bitch," he growled. "Everything was ok until you decided to mess with my goddam mind! Get the hell out of here."

"It's ok, Bobby. Blame me. But it's all in your lap now. If she stays or if she goes, it's all your choice."

"She promised she would stay."

"As your partner. But you'll lose her on a deeper level…her friendship, and her love." He motioned at Barrett. "Have them page me when you're ready to talk to me."

They headed out of the room as Goren mumbled under his breath, and the only thing Foster caught was the phrase 'cold day in hell.'


	8. Because of Her

When Eames returned to the floor, Foster was waiting for her at the nurse's station. She looked at him, her face unreadable. But her voice was soft. "How is he?"

He shook his head. "Not good. He's furious, but he doesn't quite know where to focus that anger."

"So he chose you."

"You do know him well."

She nodded. "I never wanted to hurt him."

"I know. But he really gave you no choice."

"If he chooses to turn back in to himself, I don't know what I'll do. I…I don't know if I _can_ leave him. I have too much invested in him."

"That's up to you."

"I love him, very much, but I'm not going to let him use me."

"I don't know him as well as you do, but I don't think he is using you, except maybe as a buffer from the world." She thought about that for a minute, and it did make sense, but she never minded protecting him from others. Foster sighed. "I know what I told you earlier, but maybe you will have to walk away, Alex."

"Didn't you say that would destroy him...and me?"

"I did, and I haven't changed my opinion, but it's all up to him, and I told him that. So if you stay or if you go, the choice is his. Don't feel guilty. You made your choice."

"I just want him to invest himself in me, like I have in him."

"I know. What is your heart telling you?"

"I don't know. It's hurting too damn bad to say much of anything right now."

He smiled sympathetically. "Go talk to him. Right now you're the only person in the world he wants to see."

"I would say thank you if I wasn't so angry with you."

"I understand. I'm going home now, but you can call me if you need me." He handed her a card. "That's my home number on the back. Don't be shy if you really need to talk."

She slipped the card into her pocket and headed down the hall.

She pushed the door open and walked into the room. He wasn't in the bed. She heard movement in the bathroom, so she waited. When the door opened and he came out, he was fully dressed. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her. She studied him. "Where do you think you're going?" she asked.

"I was going to find you."

"I told you I'd be back."

"I…" he trailed off.

"You didn't believe me."

"No."

"I've never lied to you, Bobby."

He walked across the room and leaned on the window sill, looking out across the city. He wished he was a bird, or a bug, or a bat, anything that could just fly away and never have to deal with all this…confusion...emotion...pain.

"Have you made your choice?"

He nodded, but he didn't turn. He still wanted to fly away. A bat never had to open itself up to what he was about to. When her hands came to rest on his back, he jumped away from her, as though she had physically hurt him. He turned to face her, and he saw a kaleidoscope of emotion churning across her face. He felt the same way. "Is Foster still out there?"

"No, he went home. Why?"

"This is all his fault and I want to pound him."

"Want to, but won't. You're not a violent man. And it's not his fault. I want this answer from you, so blame me if you have to blame anyone."

He frowned, and she again saw the little boy in him. "I'm not going to pound you."

"Will you sit down, please?"

"I…I can't." He was pacing the room, too agitated to settle into a chair.

"I am _not_ going to chase you around the room, Bobby."

He ran his hand over his hair, letting it come to rest on his neck. He stuck his other hand in the pocket of his jeans. "I…I…you were right. I-I've never done this before. I…I hope I can do it right."

"This isn't like baking a cake. There is no right or wrong way to do it."

"I-I…know how to protect myself. It's what I've always done. But I don't…know how to do...what you're asking me to do. I…I'm not using you. I would…never do that. Not to you." He leaned toward her, bending at the waist, head tilted, to catch her eyes. "I do…want you."

She raised her eyes to meet his, reading more in his eyes, and in his hesitancy, than she'd been able to read in him for a very long time. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"With you…yes."

"You're going to stop hiding from me?"

"I…I'm 44 years old, Eames. I've been keeping myself…inside all that time. I can't swear I won't retreat…sometimes. But I'll try. I promise you that."

"That's all I ask." She leaned forward and gently kissed his lips. He closed his eyes, raising his hand to her cheek.

He stepped back, reluctantly. Again, he tilted his head and looked at her, trying to get an idea of what she was thinking and feeling. She sighed, knowing what he wanted. "I feel good about this. What about you?"

There was that pensive look. Well, she guessed it was a good thing he was considering his answer. "Yes," he said after a short while of searching his feelings. He was looking for the unrest that was always a part of his emotional self, but he couldn't find it. That, he decided, was a very good thing, and it was all because of her.


	9. Remembering

Daniel Foster had couldn't sleep. Bobby Goren had him troubled. He continued to replay the evening's events in his mind, and nothing sat well with him. Before he'd turned in to try to sleep, he'd spent several hours reviewing his notes and Bobby's test results. Now he was second guessing his last discussion with Alex. He'd seen Bobby's fury and he was fine with him directing that toward him. But did he really tell Alex she might have to walk away, knowing what that would probably do to both of them? What the hell had he been thinking? Was that--could that ever--be best for either of them?

It was pointless to try to sleep any more. He got up, stuffed his files into his briefcase, and left the apartment. At three in the morning, there wasn't a whole lot of traffic to fight, and he arrived at the hospital quickly. Stepping from the elevator, he went directly to the nurses' station, where the night shift nurses were busy charting, drawing up medicine or talking on the phone. "Dr. Foster," said one...he thought her name was Carol. "Is something wrong?"

He glanced at the board on the wall. "Who's Bobby's nurse?"

"Pam is. Do you want to talk to her?"

"Please." He leaned against an empty desk and waited.

"Yes, Dr. Foster? Is something wrong?"

He turned to face a young nurse, her blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and a worried look on her face. He shook his head. "I hope not. How has he been since I left this evening?"

"He seems to be fine. His vitals are good."

"How was his attitude? Did he seem distressed or upset?"

"No. He seemed relaxed."

"Was anyone in there with him?"

"Just Miss Eames."

"When did she leave?"

"She hasn't left, and I didn't see the harm in letting her stay. I hope I haven't done anything wrong..."

"No, no. Not at all. Didn't Dr. Barrett put her down as his next of kin?"

"I believe so."

"Then she has every right to stay if she wants to. Ok. Thanks, Pam. I'm going to check on him before I go."

"Ok, doctor."

He stuck his briefcase behind the desk and headed down the hall. Pushing the door open slowly, he slipped into the room and let his eyes adjust to the darkness. There were no lights on at all and the blinds were drawn. He pulled a penlight from his pocket and shined it into the room. One chair was pulled out into its sleeper component and Alex was sleeping there. That was a good sign. He walked quietly to the bed, shining the light close enough to see Bobby without shining it into his face, but it was still enough to disturb him. He rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. His face became a dark frown and he slowly sat up. "What are you doing here?"

"I came back in to see how you are doing."

Reaching back above the head of the bed, Goren turned the light on, waking his partner. "Dr. Foster?" she frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"I hope not." He looked at Goren. "How _are_ you?"

"I'm still pissed, if that's what you mean."

"Why?"

"Because you had no business interfering. We were doing just fine..."

"Were you?" He didn't usually interrupt his patients, but this wasn't a session, and he wanted to get Bobby thinking. Memories often returned when they weren't being deliberately recalled. He knew there was a good chance of triggering that recall using _this_ relationship, and he was going to take advantage of that. "How were you doing fine? You can't remember your relationship with her. So tell me how you define 'fine.'"

When Goren didn't answer, Foster turned toward Eames, deliberately turning his back toward his patient. "Alex, I was thinking about the last conversation we had, and I...made a mistake in something I told you, about what you might have to do. I...wasn't able to sleep." He looked over his shoulder at Goren, who was watching them with interest. He sighed. "I want to talk to both of you."

"What did you tell her?"

He heard protectiveness in Bobby's tone, and that reassured him as much as anything did. He watched Eames as she got up and walked around him to sit on the foot of the bed, so that he could talk directly to both of them. "Don't you two talk?"

Eames sighed. "I don't tell him things that will upset him, doctor."

"Why not?"

She frowned. "Because...I don't want to upset him," she spoke slowly so he would have no trouble understanding her.

Foster smiled. "I realize that. But conflict resolution is a very important part of any relationship. Conflict avoidance is not healthy."

"He's just had a concussion bad enough to affect his memory and his behavior. I don't know where the hell I stand with him and you want me to go around antagonizing him? Damn it, I don't want to drive him off! I don't want to lose him."

"And you think you will, by telling him something you don't think he wants to hear? If your relationship is that fragile..."

"I didn't say that," she countered. "I just mean he's been through enough."

Foster looked at Goren. "What do you think, Bobby?"

He was confused, and he was getting very tired of feeling that way. He was also angry and he didn't like the way Foster was talking to Eames. His voice was tight, and he ignored the pounding in his head as best he could. "I want to know what you told her."

"Tell him, Alex."

She sighed, looking at Goren. "He said that maybe I would have to walk away, that the decision was entirely up to you now because I'd made my choice."

Foster added, "Now tell him what you told me, Alex."

She didn't take her eyes from her partner's. "I told him...I didn't know if I could leave you. I...have too much invested in you."

Goren's frown deepened. "Too much of what?"

"Too much of...myself. If you could remember, you'd know that."

"But I can't remember..." he started, beginning to get upset. He pressed a hand against his throbbing forehead.

Foster stepped in. "That isn't the point, Bobby. Settle down. The point is...she is as committed to you as you are to her." He looked from one to the other. "What did you two work out?"

They looked at each other, and Foster was reassured by what he saw in each set of eyes. Goren sighed. "I...can't lose her."

Eames swallowed hard, keeping tears from welling in her eyes. "I won't lose him."

Goren shifted his eyes toward Foster. "I will do anything she asks, and I'm going to try not to hide from her. I might not always be able to do that, but I sure as hell am going to try."

When he shifted his eyes back to her, she smiled at him. "And I will give him his space. I don't want to consume him; I just want to love him."

Foster nodded. "And your work relationship? That seems to be just as important to both of you."

"What about it?" Goren frowned. "It's not going to change. We are who we are. Our relationship is not going to keep us from doing our job."

"And you can say that with certainty how?"

He glared at Foster. "Because it never has," he said firmly.

Foster looked surprised. "You say that like you know it as a fact, Bobby."

Eames looked intently at her partner, placing her hand on his leg. "Why do you say that, Bobby?"

His face relaxed, though a tightness around his eyes betrayed the fact that his headache remained. The corner of his mouth twitched. "Because nothing has changed, Eames. I have...loved you for a long time. My mind can switch gears easily between Eames my partner and Alex the woman I love. I don't get the two confused, and I never have."

Eames looked at Foster. "What just happened here?"

Foster was watching Goren. "I'm not sure. Bobby?"

Goren looked at Foster and pointed an accusing finger at him. "You are still not off the hook. I'm still mad at you."

"Fair enough. Now tell me what just happened?"

"I...don't know. It's, well, it's like someone took a bunch of cotton wading out of my head."

"Do you remember the fire, or your visit to your mother?"

"No. But I remember other stuff...but don't ask me what I had for dinner a week ago last Thursday."

Eames said, "Ok, smart guy, what did you have for dinner a week ago last _Friday_?"

He met her eyes. He remembered taking her to dinner two weeks ago, and he smiled. "A steak, sirloin, medium, with a baked potato and broccoli. And you had broiled cod, with fries and mixed vegetables."

She looked at Foster. "What's going on? When you came in here, he couldn't tell you the details of the case we finished Wednesday."

"It was perception, Alex."

"What?"

"Perception can sometimes be as convincing as reality, especially in a place like the mind. At some level, a fear erupted that if he couldn't remember your past together, there might not be any chance for a future."

"That's ridiculous."

"I agree, and I wager Bobby does, too." A glance at him and a nod confirmed that. "But those deep seated insecurities will be hard to drive out. And that fear was enough to kickstart his paralyzed memory centers."

"I see," she said. "All we had to do was threaten his relationship with me. Why didn't I think of that?"

A ghost of a smile flitted across Goren's face. But it was quickly replaced by a look of increasing pain. Foster laid a hand on his arm. "Your head hurts?"

He nodded. "Hurts like hell."

"I'm not surprised. I'll send your nurse in with something to help with that. I'll be back mid-morning, to see how you're feeling and to talk about your test results. I'll want to repeat some of those tests, too."

"More apple juice?"

Foster smiled. "Let's get you out of here, and I'll take you both out for a beer, ok?"

Goren chuckled. "You got a deal, doc."

"Still pissed?"

"I'll let you know later."

"Fair enough."

He winked at Eames and left the room. She turned her attention to her partner. "Are you ok?"

"I'm not sure. I don't know what to think."

"Try not thinking for a little while, ok? Maybe that's why your head hurts; you're thinking too much."

"That never hurt it before."

"Could this be a new trend?"

"God, I hope not."

She laughed. "So do I." She slid closer to him, resting her hand on his thigh. "You do remember?"

He nodded. "I remember."

He closed his hand around hers and pulled her toward him, until her head came to rest on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her. The door opened and the nurse came in with an injection. She gave him the shot, smiled at them and left. When Eames started to pull away to get off the bed, his arms tightened around her. "Stay," he whispered, kissing her temple. She relaxed and settled against him, and they both went back to sleep.


	10. Talking With Foster

Foster returned to the floor at just past ten the next morning. The day nurse smiled at him when he asked, "How's my favorite patient doing this morning?"

"He was still sleeping the last time I checked on him, but that was about forty-five minutes ago, so he may be up now."

"Good. I'll just pop in to check on him and, if he's still sleeping, I'll come back this afternoon."

"Sounds like a plan," she replied.

He headed down the hall, knocked softly on the door and entered the room. He heard soft voices, which stopped when he came through the door. He smiled at the two detectives. Goren was dressed and sitting with one leg hanging off the bed, the other bent in front of him. Eames was facing him, in the same position, and the tray table was between them. They were playing cards. "Good morning," Foster said. "How are you both doing this morning?"

Eames returned his smile. "We're fine," she answered.

Foster was pleased to hear that. His eyes shifted to Goren. "How's that headache, Bobby?"

"Still there, but not quite as bad."

"You ready to talk or should I come back?"

Goren pushed the tray table aside. "Let's get this over with."

"Don't sound so excited," Eames teased.

He looked at her and smiled. Foster was pleased by the light interaction. He sat down and opened his briefcase. He really didn't need his notes, but force of habit had him keep them nearby. "First of all, are you still angry with me, Bobby?"

"No. Not any more."

"Good. I understand you didn't appreciate being pushed, but you needed that shove.Your test results were very interesting. You are extremely intelligent, but you play down your intelligence. Why do you think you do that?"

"To minimize the intimidation factor."

Foster nodded. "I can see that. Your size alone would intimidate many people. Any other reason?'

"To set people off their guard."

Eames smiled. "He is very good at playing roles, and he has his bumbling cop routine down pat. He's the most effective interrogator I've ever seen because he can do that. Suspects settle into a false sense of security thinking they can outwit him. But I am always ready to remind him that I know he's not stupid."

Every glimpse into the relationship between these two partners gave him a clearer sense of how much they depended on one another. He wanted to discuss it, but first things first. "I want to touch on some uncomfortable topics for a moment."

He saw the tension descend on his patient, and so did Eames. "Why?"

"Because it's important. Your childhood shaped you into the man you are today, Bobby. You know that. Children need to feel secure and loved. Those feelings were sorely lacking through much of your childhood. Part of what grew out of your childhood traumas were feelings of resentment toward both parents. You hate your father, but protect your mother. Why?"

"My mother was sick. She couldn't help what she did. My father wasn't. He made conscious choices, and they were the wrong choices."

"Abandoning his family."

"That was part of it."

"The abuse and the apathy, that was the rest of it, right?"

Eames was watching him closely. She watched his agitation increase as Foster pushed on. But he didn't try to run away from it. He allowed the discussion. He nodded in response to the doctor's question. Eames moved closer to him. He shifted his eyes toward her, and he settled a little. His biggest fear, that she would take off if she knew how really screwed up his life had been, was being addressed indirectly, and she was giving him the reassurance he needed. Foster did not missed the silent exchange. "Do you have any connection with your distant past, Bobby?"

"What do you mean?"

"Teachers, friends, anyone from your childhood."

"A friend. Lewis. We grew up together. I have other friends, from my young adulthood and a couple from my army days. I'm not a recluse."

"You and Lewis are close?"

"Yes. He...he knows more about my past, more about me, than anyone does. Eames has met him."

Eames smiled. "I like Lewis. He's nothing like Bobby, but he's a good guy."

"You aren't afraid of your past, then."

"Why would I be? It's done and there's nothing that's going to change it. What's there to be afraid of?"

"You don't readily share that part of your life."

"It's not easy to talk about."

"I want one example, Bobby. Just one, then I'll change the subject."

He hesitated. Eames held out her hand to him. He slid his hand into hers and slowly nodded, searching his memory for a suitable incident. There were so many. He sighed and rubbed his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose. Finally he looked up, at Eames. "We were sixteen or seventeen. It was springtime, because I had baseball practice. After practice, Lewis and I...started drinking. We were kids, doing what kids do. We were walking down the street, after dark, drunk as hell, joking around. Lewis gave me a shove...and I stumbled off the curb, right in front of a car. I wasn't hurt badly, but the cops were called...and they called my, uh, my mom. Told her what happened..and that I was drunk. Uh...it triggered an episode, and she was ranting when I got home, saying 'they' were trying to kill me. She smacked me around a bit, for letting 'them' hurt me, after all her warnings. But she'd already called my dad...and he came over." He tightened his grip on her hand slightly, as though he expected her to pull away. He tried to fight down the increasing agitation, with marginal success. "He, uh, beat the shit out of me. He hurt me worse than the car did. The next morning, I was tempted not to go to school. I hated answering questions. I mean, most of the time, he made sure the bruises weren't visible, but he...uh, he did a number on me that night. Getting hit by a car was an...acceptable explanation, though, and no one thought twice about it, except for Lewis. He knew what had happened. M-my mom got hospitalized that morning...while I was at school, and I stayed at Lewis' house for the two weeks she was there. I...I didn't really want my dad to know where I was, not that he cared. Ever." He took a deep breath, eyes still on hers. Finally, when he was sure she wasn't going anyplace, he looked at Foster. "Ok, doc, there's your incident. That's what my childhood was like."

"Did you drink often?"

"Sometimes. I, uh, I found out that if I drank enough, it didn't...hurt so bad."

"What didn't? The beatings?"

"No. Uh, I didn't hurt so bad, inside."

"Did you go to school drunk?"

"No. Hungover sometimes, but not drunk."

"And your grades?"

"They were good. You said we'd change the subject."

"Yes, I did. Just one more question, and you're smart enough to know where I'm going with this...your drinking...?"

"It's not a problem. It never was."

Foster looked at Eames for clarification, and she nodded agreement. "Ok. Good. You like your job now?"

"Very much. I've always liked being a cop."

"I talked with your captain. That's the impression I got from him, that you love your job. He thinks very highly of you and he is genuinely concerned about you. About both of you." He sighed and paused for a few moments. "Bobby, I have noticed that you rely very much on Alex, especially when things get hard for you. Is that something you have always done?"

"Yes."

"What about you, Alex? When things get hard for you?"

"Bobby knows when things are hard for me, and he makes sure he's there. He's sensitive to my feelings."

"From what I've seen you are both very sensitive to each other." He met Goren's eyes. "You need her."

Again he tightened his grip on her hand. "When she went on maternity leave, I had a temporary partner, and I felt...lost. I was flying blind, and I hated feeling that way. I..._missed_ her. Yes, I do need her."

"Maternity leave?"

"I was a surrogate for my sister," she explained.

Foster raised his eyebrows in surprise. "That was very generous of you."

"It was very hard on me. I need him as much as he needs me, doctor."

Foster nodded. "All right, then. This afternoon we're going to repeat some of the tests we did the other day. It'll take an hour or two, that's all. I am leaning toward discussing your discharge with Dr. Barrett. Maybe tomorrow. With your memory restored and your lungs doing so well, there's not much more we can do for you and no reason to keep you." He slid his papers into his briefcase and stood up, smiling at them. "I'll be back this afternoon."

Once Foster was gone, Eames looked at her partner. He looked back at her, a little worried. She smiled sadly. "You had it rough."

He shrugged. "I survived it."

"Lewis was a good friend."

"He still is. He doesn't know everything, but he lived through a lot of it with me."

"He knew it was your dad that time?"

"My dad or my mom. Yeah, he knew. He was there when I got hit and he saw the damage the car did." He sighed wearily. "But Lewis always knew. His mom knew, too, and she always let me stay when I showed up on their doorstep."

"That was often?"

"Too often." He tilted his head and studied her. "Uh, I don't want you feeling sorry for me."

"I don't. I feel badly that you had such a rough childhood, but we can't change that. And I still love you for who you are." She leaned closer and softly kissed him. "I'm not going to leave you."

He pulled her against him and kissed her, and he didn't want to let her go. Ever.


	11. Ready to Go Home

When Foster returned that afternoon, Eames wasn't there. "Hi, Bobby. Where's Alex?"

"She went home to shower and change. She'll be back later."

"Let's get these tests out of the way, then. Um, was your night comfortable?"

"I suppose so."

"Your nurses told me Alex spent part of the night sleeping beside you."

"I...uh, I told her to stay."

"It's ok. You did nothing wrong. They said you seemed to rest easier, and you didn't need anything for the pain. One of them said it was...sweet."

Goren laughed quietly. "I did sleep better, and my head doesn't hurt as much. But I can't guarantee it's going to stay that way. You like to mess with my mind, and that tends to hurt."

"That's my job, to mess with your mind and make sure it's ok. The other day it wasn't. Now I think it's better, and you're going to be ok. Most people do recover their memories in a few days, though for some it can take weeks, or months. I think that challenging your relationship with Alex is what did it, and that fascinates me."

"I'm so glad I fascinate you," Goren answered, annoyed.

Foster smiled. "Don't get defensive. Your relationship with her is the most important thing in your life."

"That's because she is the most important person in my life."

The doctor nodded. "I can see that, very clearly." He opened his briefcase. "Ok, let's get these tests out of the way."

-----------------------------------------------------------

Late that afternoon, Eames returned to the hospital. She entered his room to find him playing cards with Foster. They were sitting opposite each other near the window, and she was glad to see Goren up and about. She looked from one man to the other. "Are you bored, doctor?" she teased.

"Well," he said with a smile. "I spent the whole afternoon in here tormenting Bobby, I figured the least I could do was play a few hands of rummy with him. You know, keep him company until you came back."

She looked at Goren. "Rough afternoon?"

"Not so bad."

"But your head hurts." He just nodded. She looked at Foster. "See what you do to him?"

"Sorry about that. But I'm happy with the results and I think we can let him out of here tomorrow, as long Dr. Barrett agrees."

"What about this headache?" he asked.

"It will get better. It's a result of the concussion, and as your brain heals, the headache will become intermittent and then go away entirely."

"So I can go back to work now?"

"Yes. Monday you can go back to work." He sighed. "Well, I'm done. I don't need anything more from you, Bobby. I'll sign off on your chart tonight and put in my ok for your release. I see no reason for Dr. Barrett not to concur." He pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to Eames. "I promised you both drinks. I'll add dinner to it, and I promise, no uncomfortable conversation." He held out his hand to Goren, who took it amiably. "I'm sorry to have upset you so much during your stay, but you have to understand it was necessary."

Goren shrugged noncommitally. Foster shook Eames' hand. "Take care of each other, and keep the lines of communication open. You have an incredibly strong bond." He smiled. "Call me. Good night."

"Dr. Foster," Goren called as the doctor got to the door. He turned. "Thank you."

Foster smiled warmly and nodded. Then he was gone. Goren looked at Eames. She smiled at him. "Are you ready to get out of here?"

"The real question is are you ready for me to get out of here?"

"Oh, I don't know. These hospital beds are kind of cozy."

He laughed and pulled her into his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her forehead to his. Moving her head a little, she found his lips. "Yes," she whispered against his mouth. "I'm more than ready for you to get out of here."

---------------------------------------------------

Barrett came into the room early the next morning. He couldn't help a smile. Goren was sleeping soundly, on his side, his arm draped across her hip. Her head rested in the hollow of his shoulder and her arm was draped over his side. They looked as comfortable as anyone could in a hospital bed. He agreed with Foster. It was time for them to go home.

He took out his stethoscope and pressed it against Goren's back. It was enough to wake him. He turned his head toward Barrett with a sleepy frown. Barrett smiled. "Sorry to bother you. There's this thing at church today and I have to make my rounds at this ungodly hour. You want to go home today, Robert?"

"Yeah, I'm ready."

"I don't doubt it. Go back to sleep. I'll write the orders and when you get up, they'll be ready to discharge you. I'll write a prescription for an inhaler in case you have any more trouble breathing, which I doubt you will, and one for pain medicine for your headaches, which should be improving. Give yourself another few weeks and you should feel a hundred percent better."

"Work?"

"Yes. If you feel ready, go ahead." He rested a hand on Goren's shoulder and squeezed. "Take care of yourself, and Ms. Eames. It was a real pleasure meeting both of you."

"Thanks," he muttered, turning back into the pillow.

Barrett smiled and headed for the door. He paused when he heard soft voices in the room behind him. "What's wrong?" Eames asked.

"Nothing. Go back to sleep."

She sighed softly. Neither said anything more. Barrett left the room.

-----------------------------------------

Just before lunch, a nurse came in with a clipboard. She handed Goren a paper bag. "We went ahead and filled your prescriptions for you. If you have any trouble breathing, run a fever or have pain not controlled by your medicine, come back in. Follow up with your regular doctor in two weeks. Now, all I need is a signature and you are free to go."

He signed his name. She handed him his copy and said, "Take care of yourself, Bobby." She smiled at Eames and left the room.

He turned to Eames and held out a hand. She took his hand and let him pull her into his arms. For a long moment, he just held her. Then he kissed her forehead and said, "Let's get the hell out of here."

"I'm right there with you."

He tilted his head at her, studying her face. "Yes, you are."

She smiled and they headed out the door. It was time to go home.


End file.
